Acknowledging the life of Nelson Mandela

(written 24th June 2013)

Former South African President, Nelson Mandela, remains in a
critical state in hospital. This is the repeated message from the current
President, Jacob Zuma, to those who wait anxiously for news of the beloved 94
year-old’s condition. According to recent reports, a ‘senior official’ says that
South Africans should not hold out "false hopes".

Yet South African citizens interviewed
in TV news bulletins say that they are praying for a recovery, hoping for a
miracle. What kind of recovery, what sort of miraculous occurrence are they
expecting? The frail body that contains the soul of Nelson Mandela is losing
its fight for life, and no amount of prayers, miracles or medical intervention
can alter that. That struggle will shortly end, and outpourings of grief will
take the place of the vain prayers currently being uttered.

There is an inevitability to this
pattern that is painfully familiar to anyone who has lost a loved one to the
physical deterioration that awaits any of us who reach old age. The wish that
the ravages of time might somehow reverse themselves is quietly acknowledged as
being a vain one, and those emotions turn to the ritualised expressions of
grief and remorse that were always going to be the conclusion of this process.

Is there not an alternative to this
pattern of vain hope followed by collective grief? Of course, the next stage,
in the case of the death of a well-known individual, is a series of obituaries,
lists of achievements and statements of appreciation at funerals, shivah
homes and memorial services. It is well known that the BBC (and no doubt other
major broadcasting organisations) have archives full of video clips depicting
the lives of any number of famous people, ready to be broadcast as soon as the
death of a well-known person is announced.

Why must we wait for a person to die
before we are permitted to acknowledge and celebrate their achievements? Why
must these documentary records of a person’s life lie dormant on library
shelves or in cyberspace until they are no longer with us? That is as true of
well known personalities as it is of loved ones close to us: is there a law
that says tributes to their life and achievements must be reserved until they
are no longer able to appreciate them?

I recently completed a three year
stint as chairman of Liberal Judaism’s Rabbinic Conference. At the conclusion
of that tenure, the rabbi whom I regard as my mentor gave a speech of
appreciation, listing my achievements and contributions. A colleague texted me
from the other side of the room and asked ‘Have you died?’

It is patently obvious that Nelson
Mandela’s contribution to South Africa and the whole world will remain part of
that country’s legacy and our collective memory for decades to come. Even as he
lies struggling for breath, fading gently from this world in a Pretoria
hospital, he stands out from the pages of modern history, a shining
beacon in the name of freedom, tolerance and hope. Should we not speak of this while
he is yet among us?

Until our turn comes, we can never know what our experience of
our final moments might be. Should we be fortunate enough to reach old age, and
find ourselves fading gently from this world as our strength leaves us, what
might we want from those who love us and care about us? Would we ask them to
pray for an improbable recovery, bringing us back for merely a temporary
respite from an inevitable outcome? Or might we prefer that the library of
memories held of us by our loved ones, the details of what we have done and the
goals for which we strove be made available before we depart?

So perhaps, instead of hearing people pray for an improbable
recovery, Nelson Mandela would prefer us already to be celebrating his
achievements, reminding ourselves of his legacy, so that he might take his
leave accompanied not by sad, unlikely prayers for recovery but with words of
gratitude and appreciation for everything he gave us. And might we not also prefer
that our final moments be filled not with dimly perceived whispers and tiptoed
footsteps around the bed on which we shall eventually take our last breath, but
rather with joyful reflections of what we have done and the impact we have had
on those preparing to bid us a final fond farewell? Let us celebrate those we
love while they are still alive, not wait for them to pass before expressing
our thanks for their lives.